


You have to learn to breathe the air

by Macy98534



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Buried Alive, Fluff and Angst, Ghosts, Hunt, Hurt Sam Winchester, Original Character(s), Protective Dean Winchester, Trigger warning for live burial, Winchester!whump, Winchesters - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2019-03-10 09:56:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13499584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Macy98534/pseuds/Macy98534
Summary: The Winchesters go on a hunt. One of the boys gets taken. Can the other save him in time? Or will he run out of something he needs?





	You have to learn to breathe the air

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys like this!!

He awoke to darkness, almost deafening silence, a bit of pain in a few spots, and blurry memory. The initial fear of the unknown hit him and he felt around for his flashlight. He had to hit it against the wall and few times to get it to turn on. When it finally flickered to life, he felt his stomach drop. He was sitting in a box that was no bigger than 7x2x2. Which, considering how big he was, was not very comfortable.

He found himself hitting the walls and ceiling, feeling around for any kind of opening. But, when he hit the ceiling once more, small specks of dirt fell through the cracks between the boards and his heart stopped. 

“Oh my god.” He whispered, as there was a brief moment of seizing panic, completely drowning him in fear for a few moments. He knew where he is. Well, sort of. And he knew how he had gotten there. 

Yesterday

“I brought burgers and beer.” Dean called as he entered their hotel room, setting the bags on the table by the door. Sam looked up from his laptop to glance at his brother, grabbing a beer and opening while still staring at his computer.  
“Find anything?” Dean asked as he walked to the bathroom. Sam sighed and took another sip of his beer.

“Not really. I mean there’s not much to find. People are disappearing, and the cops are finding them suffocated to death in a box. But I have no idea what’s doing it.” Sam grumbled, still looking. 

“Yeah? Well I found something.” Sam finally looked up from his laptop at Dean’s words. 

“What did you find?” He asked, feeling a little excited. He’d been researching for hours, and he really wanted answers.

“Jamie Carter. When he was 16, his brother Cameron was kidnapped by some psycho, who buried him alive along highway 15. Exactly where Jamie has been putting the others.” Dean told Sam proudly. 

“So he’s finding surrogates for his brother. Great. Where’s he buried?” Sam asked, wanting to get the hunt done. Dean told him the address, and they got in the car. 

The drive there was quiet. Well, sort of quiet. Dean was blaring his rock music as usual, but Sam sat and stared out the window. When they arrived at the graveyard, they climbed out and grabbed their shovels.

The grace digging process was always long and tedious. It was hard work, they were sweating, and really it was pretty gross. It was Dean’s turn to dig, so Sam was sat on the dirt with his feet hanging into the grave. There was a loud thud as Dean’s shovel finally hit wood. He looked up at his younger brother, a little smirk on his face. Dean pulled open the coffin, his nose wrinkling at the wretched smell of the dead body. Just as the coffin was opened, he heard Sam shout. When he turned around, Sam was on the ground wrestling with the spirit. Jamie must have grabbed Sam from behind and dragged him off.

“Dean!” Sam shouted, waiting for his brother to come help him as he struggled with the ghost. Dean ran over and tackled the spirit, knocking it off of Sam, who stood up and grabbed his shotgun. Sam shot the ghost, and it vanished into the air.

“C’mon. We gotta burn these bones before he-” Dean’s sentence was interrupted by him being flung into a tree. He hit the trunk with a thud, groaning as he fell to the floor. Jamie had reappeared already, and was definitely pissed. As Dean tried to clear the fuzziness in his head from hitting it on the tree, he heard shouting, and then it went quiet. He got up, with small difficulty, as his head was spinning. When he put his hand to his forehead, it came back bloody. But, when he looked up to find his brother, Sam was nowhere to be seen.

“Sam?” He called, his brotherly instinct completely taking over. Panic rushed through him as he realized that Sam was gone. 

“Sammy! Sam!” Where had Sam gone? Did Jamie take him? Where would they have… oh no. Jamie had taken Sam. Jamie would probably bury him. Meaning that as Dean sits here and thinks, his brother is suffocating in a box. 

“Son of a bitch.” Dean grumbled angrily, throwing his lighter into the grave and climbing into his car. He spent the next hour driving along the highway. 

Now

The memories came back to Sam in a bit of a haze. Jamie had taken him, teleported him sort of. He didn’t remember being put in the box so he must have been unconscious. The last thing he remembered was him and Dean digging a grave.  
Dean.

How the hell was Dean supposed to find him? He knew he was in a box underground, somewhere along highway 15, but that highway stretches over 1500 miles. Which is at least a 24 hours drive, and Sam wasn’t sure he would even live that long. And that’s not even counting that Dean would have to inspect every foot of that distance to find the freshly turned over soil above him.

Was he really going to die down here? Out of all of the things to finally kill him, he’s gonna suffocate in a damn box. Panic once again seized him, making his chest tighten and his lungs ache. 

The problem with having a panic attack when you’re in a box underground, is that there isn’t enough oxygen to hyperventilate, and the oxygen that is there he desperately needs to preserve. So he forces himself to hold his breath until he calms down enough to breathe normally. He takes light breaths, trying to preserve the oxygen.

Sam was no math genius, but he guessed that he had about 16 hours before he suffocated to death. It’s a really weird feeling, to know how much time you have left to live. Though Sam had utter faith in his brother, and forced himself to believe that Dean would find him, knowing he could be dead in 16 hours made him really uncomfortable.

Sam had never been that great with small spaces. He wouldn’t really say he was claustrophobic, but he didn’t like them either. Having been kidnapped more times than he can even count, he’s seen his fair share of small spaces, and there’s nothing fun about them. This had to be one of the worst ones.

He forced himself to stay calm, controlling his breathing calmly, trying to pretend he couldn’t feel wood pressing against him in every direction. In any other situation he honestly might be bored right now. He’s by himself with no phone or computer to use. His phone was in his pocket, but there was no service and he didn’t have any games. But it’s hard to be bored when you’re fearing for your life. All he could do was try to stay calm and hope that Dean would come for him soon. 

2 Hours Later

The car engine was purring loudly as Dean drove along the highway. He’d called Sam’s phone several times, only getting his voicemail. But Sam’s phone must be on, because his GPS is still working. Dean was racing toward the red blip on his phone, secretly fearing that when he found Sam, he’d find him alive.

When he reached the red blip, he climbed out of the impala with his shovel, walking over to the grass. It was obvious something was down there. The surrounding area was all grass, but there was a rectangle of just dirt, where the grass had been shoveled away. There was a short moment of fear and brotherly rage when his brain reminded him that his baby brother was sitting under that. He started digging immediately, hoping Sam wasn’t too far under the ground. 

Sam was pulled out of his panic attack by the sound of dirt moving. More specks of dirt fell through the boards, and he had to spit some out of his mouth. He heard muffled shouting from above him, and he knew Dean had come for him.

“Dean! Dean! Please get me out!” Sam shouted, hitting the ceiling again. The shoveling sounds continued to get louder and louder, and Sam almost cried with relief as he realized Dean was really here, and he was going to let Sam out of his grave. 

After a few minutes of digging, Dean could hear Sam’s desperate shouts for help. His heart panged with concern as he dug faster. When the metal hit wood, he gasped and started pushing the dirt out of the way with his hands.

“Dean! Dean, please let me out!” He could still hear Sam shouting to him. He struggled to pull the lid up, pushing it out of the way to get to Sam. Sam was completely dirty, his face had brown smudges and his hair was a mess. He looked absolutely terrified, and Dean hasn't seen his brother look at him like this in years. Like Dean was his hero. Like Dean was the most important person in the world.

Sam cried with relief when sunlight hit his face, blinding him for a second. His eyes adjusted, and he found Dean standing over him, his face riddled with worry as he looked down at Sam.

“Help me out. Now. Get me out of here.” Sam begged, letting Dean grab his hands and pull him up. Dean climbed out of the ground, reaching down to pull Sam out. Before he could even smother him with worry, Sam was hugging Dean. Tighter than they’d hugged in a while. Dean returned the embrace, holding Sam tightly, knowing he’d almost lost him again. Dean noticed that Sam was shaking. 

Dean gently pushed Sam away to check him over. He investigated Sam’s face, pestering him over the dried blood down the side of Sam’s face.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt? Did he hurt you?” Dean rambled, still mothering Sam. Sam just shook his head. He seemed exhausted, he had just sat in a box for 10 hours, and though that didn’t seem tiring, the panic and slight lack of oxygen had taken all of the energy from his body. 

“I’m okay. I just want to go to bed.” Sam requested. Dean nodded, walking to the car with Sam, who was leaning into his brother heavily. Dean got Sam in the car, and started to drive back to the motel. The second Sam sat down however, he fell asleep. Dean decided to call Bobby.

“Dean? You find him?” Bobby asked, sounding worried.

“Yeah. I’ve got him. He’s not hurt, but he’s pretty freaked. He’s already asleep, the poor kid.” Dean relayed, glancing over at his brother.

“You take care of him. Keep me posted.” Bobby said, and it wasn’t a request.

“You got it. I’ll call you later.” Dean hung, going back to the wheel, still glancing at Sam every few minutes to make sure his brother was okay.  
When they arrive to the motel, Dean walked around the car to get Sam.

“Sammy. C’mon, let’s get inside.” He spoke gently, trying not to spook Sam. Sam looked up at him, and let Dean walk him into the motel room with an arm around him. Sam collapsed into his bed, already falling back asleep. Dean obviously knew that Sam should shower, but he seemed so tired, and clearly had a long day, so Dean decided to let him sleep. 

The Next Morning

Dean was woken up at what must have been around 4 am, by whines and the sounds of a bed rustling. He opened his eyes to look over at Sam, whose face was distorted in distress, and he was flinching. 

“Sammy. Wake up.” Dean called, climbing out of bed to go to his brother. Sam suddenly sat up screaming, making Dean jump. 

“Sam. Woah. Calm down. It’s okay. You’re safe.” Sam was breathing heavily, and pretty fast, and he looked absolutely terrified.

“Can we go outside? I have to- I have to go outside.” Sam rambled, climbing out of bed to leave the motel room. Dean followed him out into the cold and the rain, grabbing Sam’s jacket off the table on the way out. When he made it outside, he found Sam sitting on the ground hugging his knees. Dean sat down next to him, handing Sam his jacket.

“Sam? You good?” Dean asked, looking over at Sam. Sam was staring the car in the parking lot, watching the rain roll down the windshield.

“I’m sorry. I just, I had a nightmare and I had to go outside. I had to know I could go outside. I- I just feel like if I close my eyes I’ll open them and I’ll be back in that box. Nowhere to go. And I’m suffocating. And I’m so scared. And I just keep thinking, Dean will come for me. Dean wouldn’t leave me here. And after a while I got scared because I thought that maybe you weren’t coming. That you stopped looking.” Sam admitted, glancing at Dean, before looking away. Dean took a moment to process what Sam had said. Sam thought Dean had given up on him. That Dean was even capable of that. Now it was time for Dean to do that thing where he expresses his feelings.

“You listen to me Sam. I will never leave you behind. And if you are gone, I will never stop looking. I promise. I’m shocked that you could even think that I’d ever leave you like that. That will never happen. I’ll always come for you, okay? Every time.” He insisted, getting Sam to look at him. Sam only nodded.

“You ready to go back inside? You’re gonna get pneumonia out here.” Dean commented, helping Sam stand. Sam showered before he went back to sleep. Dean laid in his bed and stared at the wall, sighing deeply. 

Days like these were always hard. Most hunts were trivial. Find the thing, save the victim, go home. But the hunts where Sam got hurt, or worse, taken; those were always harder. Because every time Sam almost died Dean was forced to handle the thought. What if he died? And it was always so hard for him to deal with. But of course he’d never tell Sam that. Sam already knows. He’s sure Sam already knows. After a few minutes, the older hunter finally managed to get some sleep.


End file.
